The Blocky Tale of Blake
by The Sun Man
Summary: Features adventure, a guy named Blake, and a sense of humor that holds a respectable 8.7 on the Nicolas Cage scale. (Rated T for mild violence and mild violence only.
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: This story is rated T primarily for (somewhat) serious violence. There is NO cursing or suggestive themes. Also, understand that the words spoken by players are occasionally and deliberately misspelled, since they are real people typing what their characters say. This is told from the characters points of view, not the players. The characters may know what usernames are, but they do not know they are in a game.

I will try to update this story as often as I can. Now that my ramblings over, I give you:

**The Blocky Tale of Blake**

**[-I-] Chapter One [-I-]**

A rush of colors, a blinding flash of light, and then… Darkness.

This is how the player called XBlakeDanceX spawned. XBlakeDanceX stood still for a moment, and then slowly turned around, making a full 360. This particular multiplayer server seemed to be mostly comprised of forest biomes. Far off to the west was a vast desert, but aside from that XBlakeDanceX couldn't see any variety in the biomes. Perhaps a change in perspective would assist him.

XBlakeDanceX began walking further into the forest and noticed another player chopping down an oak tree. The players' skin was very interesting: The player appeared to be a brown eyed "Steve" with black robes. XBlakeDanceX could easily see by the floating name that the players name was "Willkill". XBlakeDanceX walked over to the new player, and tapped Willkill on the shoulder.

"Hello their. How r u?" XBlakeDanceX said.

Willkill turned around, noticed XBlakeDanceX and replied: "I'm quite fine, thank you. Are you new to the server?"

"I am nuss." XBlakeDanceX said, and then quickly realized his mistake. "I mean I am, yes."

Willkill smiled knowingly. "Typo?"

"Typo."

Willkill laughed, and picked up two wooden logs. "Do you mind if I call you Blake? XBlakeDanceX is a bit long."

Blake nodded his approval. "And can I call you Will?"

Will nodded as well. "You may. Nice skin by the way."

Blake looked at himself and had to agree. Blake wore a skin he made himself, and was justifiably proud with the results. Blakes skin was that of a long haired man with green eyes and light chainmail armor. Attached to the right side of his body was a sheathed throwing knife.

Will placed the wooden logs into his inventory, and put away his hatchet. "Alright, now that we're done, do you mind if I take you to our spaw- I mean stronghold?"

"Sure as shurikens" Blake said joyfully.

And so Will walked through the dense forest with Blake following. Will cast a look over his shoulders every few minutes to make sure Blake hadn't fallen behind. After about six minutes of walking they arrived at the top of a relatively tall hill. Directly below them was a huge, enclosed spawn area.

Blake couldn't believe his eyes.

The spawn area was filled with wooden villages, cobblestone walls and towers, and perhaps the most intricate castle he had ever laid eyes on.

Will saw Blakes shocked face and laughed. "Our forest stronghold is pretty impressive, but it's even better up close. Come on, I'll show you!"

Will began sprinting down the hill and towards the clearing, with Blake in close pursuit.

Several npc villagers wandered aimlessly around the village, while even more real players performed a variety of activities. Blake saw several players fishing, cutting trees, building houses, and farming wheat.

Oddly enough, the majority of the players were instead surfacing from a gargantuan mining entrance, and handing cobblestone to a second team of players. The second team ran towards the walls and beefed them up with even more cobblestone, so that the most complete walls were twenty blocks thick and thirty blocks high.

Blake wondered about this phenomenon for a moment, but his thoughts were cut short when Will spoke up.

"Alright Blake, we're at the portcullis. You're a new player so the guards don't know you yet. Don't worry though, I'll get us inside."

Will and Blake arrived at the portcullis, which in reality was a gate filled with gravel. Blake noted with some interest the gravel wall had to be at least twenty blocks thick to match the rest of the wall.

"Where are the guards?" Blake wondered aloud.

"We're in here!" Said a disembodied voice.

Blake turned around wildly to see where the voice had come from. Will grabbed Blake by the shoulders and gently turned him back towards the portcullis. Blake scoured the area for a moment, and then realized where the guards were.

Next to the portcullis was a very short watchtower that stuck out from the wall. The structure was built out of cobblestone, and was completely enclosed from the outside, were it not for one missing block.

Blake looked through the gap in the structure, and saw a guards face.

The guard wore a sack over his head with only two slits for his bright blue eyes to peer out of. The guard tried to give him an annoyed look, then realizing he was wearing a mask, spoke instead.

"Look buddy, you can't enter the stronghold. It says here that you literally just spawned, and what's even worse it looks like you didn't even spawn in the correct spawning area. You know what that means don't you?"

Blake shook his head "no".

"Well it means that you ar-

"Hey buddy look its will i need to get in plz." Will shouted. Blake noted that Will had spoken so fast he hadn't even managed to spell correctly.

The guard looked past Blakes head and saw Will. The guard looked over to the lever on his right, and then looked back at Will.

Will shook his head from behind Blake and made a "Try it and you're dead" gesture by drawing his thumb across his neck.

The guard sighed, pushed a button to his left instead of pulling the lever.

Blake heard the sound of pistons pushing back and forth and the faint buzz of redstone, then watched in astonishment as the gravel wall fell into the earth.

Will gave Blake a friendly shove towards the spawn area.

"Alright Blake," Will said, "Go on into the spawn area. Try to find a building made of purple and dark blue wool. Stay inside the building. I have a few jobs to take care of, then I'll join you at the place I just mentioned. See you soon."

Blake nodded his understanding, and then sprinted into the spawn area.

After Blake left, Will turned back towards the guard.

"Listen to me and listen well. If you screw up again, I'll make sure you have a nasty little "accident". It would be a shame if you were to trip and fall into the Spider pit…"

The guard shuddered and nodded. "It won't happen again Prince William!"

The prince nodded, and walked into the spawn area as the gravel wall behind him rose back up, and hit the cobblestone frame with a resounding CLINK.

**-O-O-O-O-O-O-**


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note: I apologize for the lack of action. Things will speed up soon. Pinky Promise.

Without further a do:

[-I-] Chapter Two [-I-]

Blake walked along the gravel path towards the odd blue and purple building. Blake stopped, and tried to conceal his laughter.

Outside the wooly building were two men, one standing on the others back while trying to place a sign above the wooden doorway. The first man was dressed in raggedy leather garments, and had a rugged look about him. From his missing eye to his scarred cheek, the man gave off an aura of toughness, were it not for his companion. Two nameplates floated above the duo, one saying "RiggedMiner" and the second saying "Rosso'less"

The second man wore light chain-link armor, and had two quivers of arrows slung over his shoulder. Leaning against the wall was his bow. The man looked like the strong silent type, but his voice gave off a very different impression.

"Move more to the left you coal-covered idiot! No that's the right! That's backwards! What are you doing? Why is it so hard to place a sign? Why'd you make the doorway so high? Why aren't you answering me Riggs?"

The second man, or Riggs, as his companion had called him, shifted position again and desperately tried to keep his balance.

"Maybe if you would stop flapping your arms like a butterfly, we could PLACE THE SIGN!" Riggs shouted.

Unfortunately, this outburst distracted Riggs, who lost his balance, causing the two friends to fall to the ground in a mess of arms and legs.

Without a second thought Blake rushed over to the squabbling friends, and helped them back to their feet.

"Thanks friend," Riggs said graciously, "I was afraid my incredible brawn would crush twiggy boys' glass bones."

The archer stood up and brushed himself off. "My bones are suitably stronger than grass. It would take more than a fat mans' incredible weight to hurt me."

"Fat?" Riggs asked incredulously.

The archer ignored his friend and held out a hand to Blake.

"Thanks anyways pal. My name is Ross, and as I'm sure you've heard, my large friend over there is Riggs."

Blake shook Ross' hand.

"No problem." Blake said. "So do you own that building or something?"

Ross rolled his neck and replied.

"Actually Riggs owns the building, but we built it together. Our little tumble was the result of Riggs' stupid idea to put a sign right above the doorway. I told him it would look better _next_ to the doors."

"Fat?" Riggs said again.

"Don't take it too seriously big guy. Once you leave the mines the first thing that goes is your muscular physique." Ross said cheekily, while placing down a crafting bench.

Riggs snapped out of his stupor and turned to face Blake.

"So why are you here, friend? We haven't even told anyone about our little business venture." Riggs said innocently.

Ross looked up from the crafting bench with a disapproving frown. "We shouldn't be saying things like that Riggs, you know what happens if prince "I'm a pain in the tookus" finds out."

"What are you talking about?" Blake queried.

Ross finished crafting a sign, and looked Blake straight in the eyes. Blake hadn't known the talkative archer all that long, but he could sense that this was a rare moment of seriousness for Ross.

"If the prince finds out that you sell things, _anything_, without one of those stupid certification badges, you get ruffled up by the Black Knives. Or worse." Ross said quietly.

Ross finished tacking the sign to the building, and made sure it would directly next to the door.

A thunderous crack resounded throughout the stronghold, followed by an odd bit of music. The music was dry and lifeless, performed on violins.

Ross and Riggs looked up sharply at the noise, as if they were dogs snapping towards the sound of another dogs' bark. Ross grabbed his bow and opened the doors to the building. Riggs charged into the structure, with Ross in close pursuit.

"Come on!" Ross urged to Blake.

Blake took a tentative step towards the building, but was stopped when he heard a voice.

"There you are!" Will said with relief. "You went to the wrong building, but it's not entirely your fault. I should of realized we had _two _buildings made of purple and blue wool, haha! How silly of me!"

Blake smiled, the arrival of his friend Will had dispelled his sense of unease. The odd sounds and ominous warnings of Ross had disturbed him.

Ross!

"Hey Will I'd like you to meet Ro-…" Blake finished his sentence abruptly, realizing the wooden doorway had been broken and replaced with more wool. Apparently, Will had not noticed that the doorway had existed in the first place.

"Like me to meet whom?" Will asked curiously, following Blakes' gaze to the now-sealed building.

Blake shrugged and yawned.

"You must be tired," Will inferred, "I'm certain that night is falling and a good bed in a safe room would do you some good. It does become rather nasty at night."

"Hey Will," Blake asked, "Why are so many people either mining or working on the big wall? Why does everyone look so scared? What was the weird sound and music-thingy? What is a Black Knife?"

At the words "Black Knife" Will paled for a moment, but quickly regained his composure.

"My my, aren't we especially curious today? I'll escort you to the castle, then I'll explain everything in the morning."

Blake felt suspicious, but hid it with a large grin.

"I'll take that as a "yes", you go on ahead. Follow the gravel road to the castle gate, then I'll join you momentarily." Will said charismatically.

Blake didn't move for a second, but then began trotting up the gravel hill towards the castle.

When he was sure the new player was out of earshot, Will turned back towards the purple and blue wool building.

Will heard a man walk behind him. The newcomer grunted something incomprehensible. Will turned to face the man, and smiled.

The man wore flamboyantly-shaded orange skin-tight combat gear, and wore a red gas mask that concealed his face.

"Do your thing Pyrus." Will commanded.

Pyrus pulled a flint and steel out from his pocket, and chuckled. The unearthly sound echoed through his helmet.

Will began to walk away, but noticed a sign before he did so. The sign read:

Riggs and Ross armory

Ross and Riggs armory

Buy weaponry cheap!

Will smiled to himself, and began walking towards the castle. Behind him, a pillar of flame jettisoned into the sky as the would-be-armory burned to the ground.

**-O-O-O-O-O-O-**


	3. Chapter 3

Authors Note: Finally some fighting. I'm as relieved as you are. Not to mention, we have some very interesting enemies... I've decided this will not be like some other monotone minecraft fancfiction. The heroes won't just be fighting skeletons/zombies/creepers, expect to see nether monsters, endermen, and a frustratingly indestructible slime, but perhaps I've said too much.

Without further ado,

[-I-] Chapter Three [-I-]

The front gate to the castle was surprisingly deserted. There was no guards in sight, and the small, wooden portcullis was raised, allowing anybody access to the castle.

Blake walked through the lifted gate, and stopped at the front of the castle. The castles doorway was ridiculously huge, being crafted from heavy wooden logs, and standing nearly eight blocks high. When compared to the rest of the gargantuan castle, a giant doorway did make sense.

Blake knocked hesitantly on the doors, but then noticing he had barely tapped, struck the doorway much harder than he had planned.

Blake hopped around, flailing his bruised hand, as a man called him from the other side of the door.

"Who goes there?" Said the voice. Blake noticed that the voice sounded as if it were echoing, and he was prone to bet that the man was wearing a full-face helmet.

"Uhh my name is Blake! William sent me!" Blake shouted at the top of his lungs.

The man on the other side of the door coughed violently then responded. "You don't need to yell, I can hear you just fine through the air ducts."

Blakes face flushed, and he realized that it was indeed true; there were a couple odd holes in the castles exterior, which probably brought air into the castle. The closest hole seemed to be merely three blocks of the ground.

"And you said William, right? Do you mean Prince William?"

Blake gazed at the door stupidly, Will was royalty!

"I-I guess so. I had no idea he was a prince."

The man on the other side of the door was silent, and stayed that way for a long while. No response came from the other side of the door that Blake contemplating leaving, but the mans voice came back.

"I'm going to let you in. Look out though, the doors open outwards!"

Blake heard the man walk away, muttering to himself about idiotic design flaws, and heard a lever be pulled.

The great wooden doors swung open quickly, nearly smacking Blake in the face.

Blake peered inside, and was shocked at how beautiful the castle was on the inside.

Great tapestries, flags, and magnificent embroideries hung from ever perch and decorated every wall. Long dining tables filled the room, epic statues were situated in every corner, torches lit up the dark areas, and at the very end of the hall, was a throne.

Blake took a fearful step forward, and heard the man chuckle.

The speaker was a knight. That much was made obvious by his iron armor, full face helm, and chestplate. Thrown over his iron chestplate was a large piece of cloth. The cloth piece held the picture of a golden tear that seemed to drip from the sky.

The knight laughed heartily and smacked Blake on the back in a gesture of friendship that probably cracked his bones.

"I am Sir Bicer, welcome to the Tearstone Castle!" The knight said enthusiastically.

Blake smiled and gave a weak nod. "My name's Blake" He said, as his back muscles protested, causing him to wince.

Suddenly, a great horn sounded, and Sir Bicer snapped to attention.

"The royal meeting is under way, follow me Blake."

Sir Bicer moved towards the throne surprisingly fast for a man in full armor, with Blake in tow.

A door behind one of the long tables opened, and twelve knights in armor similar to Sir Bicers' jogged out in formation. They made a semi-circle around the throne, and simultaneously fell to one knee, bowing to the empty chair.

Behind them, four more knights entered the room. Whereas the previous knights walked in a brisk, military formation, these knights moved with grace and confidence. The four knights wore bright golden armor that seemed to shimmer with an arcane power. Each knights stood at a corner of the throne, and planted their golden swords into the ground, and bowed their heads.

"Those golden knights are the Praetorian Guard," Bicer whispered to Blake, "They're the deadliest soldiers we have. One of those knights could take on an entire enemy squad unarmed!"

"Why aren't you with the knights that look like you?" Blake whispered back.

"Uh you see I was- Hey look! Here come the princes!"

Two men walked out of the door, both wearing ceremonial black clothing. Blake instantly recognized Will. The second man looked very different.

He had a strong, scarred face. One scar started at his lip and traveled down to his chin. The second scar started above his right eye, and traveled down at an angle so that it barely missed his eye.

"The second prince is Prince Robert, he's sort of like the polar opposite of Prince William." Bicer whispered, and Blake had to agree. Prince Robert was large and muscular, while Prince William was skinny and weak-looking. The two princes may have been brothers, but their incredible differences made it hard to see them related.

The princes kneeled at either side of the throne.

A moment of silence passed throughout the castle interior. Then, the king entered the room with incredible modesty. The king shuffled towards the throne, and sat down.

The king wore a heavy snow-white robe and cape, and carried a sturdy gold scepter. He wore a large golden crown imbedded with diamonds and emeralds, symbolizing his rank and power. His face was old and weathered, and his silver hair matched his age accordingly. Surprisingly, the kings face was entirely clean shaven, with no hint of a moustache or beard to be seen.

One of the iron-clad knights rose from his kneeling position and announced: "ALL HAIL THE KING OF TEARSTONE, LORD FYRON THE INDESTRUCTIBLE!"

King Fyron winced at this startling loud proclamation. "Perhaps, in the future, you should realize that we are indeed inside a castle. Your voice will carry much further then you may know." Fyron said passively.

The knight nodded his agreement, glad that his full-face helmet hid his embarrassed look. "Sorry M'lord. All may rise! This meeting is now in session."

The group of knights, Praetorian Guard and princes found their appropriate seats at two of the long tables, the princes and Praetorian sitting closest to the king, with the ordinary knights sitting further back.

Sir Bicer grabbed Blakes arm and brought him to one of the tables, and sat him down between two knights. Bicer sat opposite of Blake, and motioned for him to listen to the king. Blake dimly realized that King Fyron had been speaking the whole time, and only now heard what he was saying.

" nd so if we divert more forces to our south wall, the zombie horde will be repelled for long enough. But we must remember that this will not solve the problem, for as long as the Tactomancer lives, our problems will merely grow."

"Tactomancer?" Blake asked aloud, then felt blushed his face furiously as all assembled turned towards him. Blake could only see Prince Robert, Prince William, and King Fyrons faces, but he could feel the burning gazes of all the knights from behind their helmets.

"Tactomancer indeed. Could it be that our new player does not understand the situation we are in?" King Fyronsaid, causing Blakes already red face to turn a darker maroon.

Prince William stood up, brushed himself off, and gave a short bow to King Fyron. "Yes, just in case it isn't obvious, this is the new player Blake, and a potential Meister. I discovered him deep in the forest as it was foretold, and I brought him here myself. Unfortunately, I haven't had the time to explain our… curious… situation to him. I thought it best if you were to explain this, M'lard. Excuse me, M'lord*."

King Fyron breathed in deeply, then folded his hands and switched his gaze to Blake. "As you are probably aware of, this is the Kingdom of Tearstone. We are the remnants of a once great empire that mysteriously vanished more than four hundred years ago. Nearly twenty years ago, a man known simply as the "Tactomancer" began summoning the dead and using them to assault our villages. We were unprepared, and lost nearly all our villages, so we retreated deeper in the forest, and reached remarkably large clearing. We began to build a stronghold with great walls to… to…"

King Fyron began coughing uncontrollably, his story postponed for the moment. Several of his knights stood up, speaking loudly amongst themselves, trying to help him. Prince Robert came to his fathers side and held his shoulders, while Prince William looked upon the whole issue neutrally.

The old king coughed for perhaps the twentieth time, then ceased, and took several deep breaths.

One of the knights handed King Fyron a handkerchief, which the king gratefully wiped his mouth with. Blake noticed with some dread that the handkerchief was stained black when Fyron pulled it from his lips.

The knights continued to look at Fyron with concern hidden behind their helmets, until Fyron finally relaxed in his thrown and waved his hand angrily.

"I'm not dead yet!" Fyron thundered, causing the knights closest to him to shrink back. Robert and William smirked at the knights for being so easily frightened.

Fyron sighed, and ran a hand through his silvery hair absentmindedly.

"As I was saying," King Fyron continued, "We constructed the stronghold to protect ourselves from the undead legion. The walls are being built rapidly, but I fear that this will not save us. For one thing, I am dying from a terrible curse. You see, when I was a young man I met a primordial spirit, who I angered with my arrogant and boisterous remarks, causing the spirit to curse me. I will soon be dead if the curse is not lifted."

"So how do we break the curse?" Blake asked, causing several of the knights to groan and mumble to themselves in odd languages.

King Fyron laughed, which Blake thought was odd for a man who would soon die from a curse. "That's just it, we know not one soul with any significant arcane knowledge! All we've been able to deduce about the curse is that it is slow acting, which is obvious since I was cursed nearly forty years ago. I am sixty-four now. We also know that the curse has produced a buildup of black gunk within my chest. It occasionally rises to the surface, as you were unfortunate enough to just witness. Aside from these two subjects, we are at a total loss. I'm afraid that if we do not _conjure up_ a solution soon, Prince Robert will succeed me as the king of Tearstone."

The knights groaned at the foul wordplay.

Blake sat silently for a moment, then spoke up as an idea hit him.

"Why not see the Tactomancer? If he really can raise the dead, then he should know plenty about curses and magical stuff."

King Fyrons face changed expressions slowly. At first he was confused, then dismissive, and then genuinely happy.

"Blake you… You may be the wisest man here! We never even considered such an idea! To think that the solution was so close all along!" Fyron said with glee.

Prince William cleared his throat loudly.

King Fyron turned towards William with some weariness.

"Yes William, do you have something to say?"

Prince William rose up so that all the gathered knights could see him, and spoke his mind.

"Seeing the Tactomancer is a serious mistake. Not only has he proved unresponsive to our diplomatic tactics in the past, but he will surely destroy any who enter his domain. I simply do not believe any man would be foolish enough to undertake this venture."

"I'll go talk to him." Blake said instantly, causing as uproar among the knights.

King Fyron silenced the knights by striking the floor with his scepter.

"Blake," King Fyron said seriously, "You are new to this land. You do not know the powers the Tactomancer has at his disposal. Entering his domain is surely suicide. Are you sure you would wish this fate upon yourself?"

Blake looked around the room slowly, saw the empty gazes of the concealed knights, the worried look on Prince Williams face, the confused look on Prince Roberts, and finally looked into the hollow, sleepless eyes of King Fyron.

"I'll do it." Blake quietly, then realizing his voice had cracked, spoke louder so all could hear. "I'LL DO IT!"

The knights gave shouts of encouragement, and began banging the tables with their gauntlets, chanting Blakes name.

Sir Bicer stood up and folded his arms behind his back. "I'm will escort young Blake upon this mission as well."

The knights were silent, and one of the few female knights in the room stood up and shouted: "That's right Bicer, get your honor back and save the king!"

This caused another bout of joy among the knights, which lasted even longer than the previous.

Blake and Sir Bicer stood up, and looked to Fyron for consent.

The king simply cracked a boyish grin. "Off you go then. We'll provide you with whatever you need tonight, and tomorrow at the crack of dawn you'll be on your way!"

The knights cheered again, and were silenced when Blake spoke up.

"Do you mind if I bring some friends with me? They're brave, honest, and pretty tough-looking."

King Fyron raised an eyebrow at this last statement, but allowed them to bring whoever would join them.

One of the knights motioned for them to come closer so that he could show the two heroes to their rooms for the night.

Just as they were about to move, Blake heard a TWANG and a HISSSSSS.

Without thinking, without even considering, Blake leapt in front of King Fyron.

Blake felt a burning pain, and suddenly understood that the wound _was _burning! He had been set on fire!

Years of annoying children chanting STOP! DROP! AND ROLL! Forced Blake to snap into action, hitting the ground and rolling like an idiot before the assembled knights and royalty alike.

Rolling may not have been the wisest idea, as Blake felt the pain intensify, and realized with a start that something on his back snapped. When he looked at the feathered stick lying on the ground, he discovered that someone had shot him in the back with a flaming arrow.

Sir Bicer picked Blake up off the ground, ripped the arrow shaft from his back, and force fed him a purple liquid. As the liquid traveled towards his body, Blake felt all the pain go away as his wound closed up and his mind became clearer.

One of the knights drew his sword and gave a fierce battle cry, and charged towards the assaultant.

Once the pain faded away, Blake saw the man who shot the arrow.

Calling the creature a man may have been a bit of a stretch, since this particular "man" had no flesh at all. The creature looked like a goofy plastic skeleton from an exhibit, but Blake saw the creature move, he could _hear_ the scraping noise as it awkwardly moved away from the charging knight.

Blake couldn't help but notice one more thing about the skeleton: Its bones were blood red.

The red skeleton knocked an arrow to the oddly gleaming bow it held, causing the arrow to instantly burst into flames. The red skeleton fired the arrow, and Blake watched in a dim sort of horror as the arrow plunged through the knights neck, right above his chestplate and right below his helmet.

The knight couldn't even comprehend his own death as he slipped out of the light and into the darkness.

King Fyrons face was transfixed with fury, and he struggled as two of the ordinary knights pulled him from the room.

Behind the red skeleton came a long groan.

Blake couldn't believe his eyes as he saw another creature stagger into the room. This creature was obviously a zombie, who wore a tattered teal shirt and torn purple pants.

Most stories about zombies, usually told by veteran monster hunters around an inns fireplace, always depicted the undead fiends as having green, peeling skin, but this particular zombie must have been some sort of exception.

As the zombie shuffled into the room, Blake saw that its skin was not green, but instead appeared to be a bright red.

This red zombie began stalking closer to the group of knights as the red skeleton knocked another arrow. Two of the iron-armored knights sprinted into battle.

Blake suddenly felt his instincts command him, and Blake quickly drew Sir Bicers sword before the knight could react, and sprinted after the two knights.

The red skeleton launched an arrow, which deflected off the first knights armor harmlessly. The second knight reached the red zombie, and swung her sword in a wide arc.

The red zombie moved incredibly fast, ducking the blade and punching the knight in her chest.

The knight hit the ground screaming, her iron armor melting onto her chest.

The red skeleton knocked another arrow and fired.

The arrow struck the first knight through the wrist, causing him to drop his sword in pain. The red skeleton suddenly leapt forward, and struck the knight over the head with his bow.

The knight struck the ground with a CLANG and grabbed his head with his hands. The ringing sound caused by the force of the impact must have been ten times worse within his helmet.

The red zombie lowered itself, and prepared to devour the second knight.

Blake reached the battle just in time, and lunged forward with Bicers sword and ran the zombie through. Blake shoved the red zombie back, and jumped forward. As Blake fell, he wrapped his arms around the red skeleton in a violent hug, and brought the animated pile of bones down to the ground.

The red skeletons skull shattered when it hit the ground, the rest of its body lay still.

The first knight stood up painfully, and assisted Blake in helping the screaming second knight up.

The female knight had one arm over the male knights shoulder and the other arm over Blakes. They began to walk towards Bicer, who was fiddling with a potion of healing, when Blake heard an unearthly moan.

The red zombie rose from the ground, Bicers sword still implanted in his chest.

Blake dropped the second knight, wincing when he heard her strike the ground. The female knight cursed his ancestors _and _his future children, making Blake wonder why he was helping these people in the first place.

Blake turned towards the red zombie as the two knights walked slowly away.

The red zombie pulled the sword from its chest, and seemed to look it over with his… empty eye sockets. The red zombie then gave the sword a few experimental swings, and faced Blake.

Blake wasn't sure if he could beat this foe, heck, he wasn't even sure how something that walked so slowly could dodge attacks so quick, but he told himself it didn't really matter anyways.

Blake pulled his throwing knife from his right shoulder and faced the red zombie.

The red zombie lowered its guard, and walked forwards, the sharp sword grating against the cobblestone floor as it came closer.

Blake dropped into a classic knife fighter pose, and walked towards the red zombie.

The red zombie swung his sword high above his head, and Blake saw the world very differently.

Blake perceived Bicers sword falling much slower than it should of, he saw the red zombie in perfect clarity. The monsters arm was outstretched to bring the sword down precisely on Blakes head. The red zombie also held out its left arm to counteract the weight of the sword in its right hand. Blake noticed that the red zombies posture was totally incorrect, the creatures feet were turned inward and it was leaning to far forward.

As the sword came ever so closer, Blake simply stepped to the side, the vertical cut missed him entirely and struck the ground with a CLANG! The red zombie was thrown of balance by the missed blow, and Blake took the opportunity to shove the monsters with all his might.

The red zombie fell backwards and dropped the sword. Blake switched the throwing knife to his left hand and grabbed Bicers sword with his right. The red zombie rose up for round two, but Blake threw the dagger.

The knife implanted itself between the red zombies eye sockets, causing it to falter. In that moment Blake gave an impressive horizontal strike with the sword, decapitating the red zombie cleanly. No blood came from the wound, whatever insides the monster had must of dried up years ago.

The red zombie fell without a sound, as useless and powerless as a broken puppet.

Time sped up, and Blake saw the world clearly again. He had no idea what just happened. How did he know how to fight so well? Why did _time slow down_? Why were these things red? Did the Tactomancer send them? Or were they affiliated with this "Black Knife" group he'd heard whispers about?

Either way, the creatures were dead and Blake was dimly aware the knights clapping him on the back and cheering his name.

This would have been a great, heroic moment if Blake hadn't suddenly lost consciousness and hit the ground like a bag of bricks. Blake had always found that simile to be incredibly stupid, but right before his vision faded he understood how painful it really was.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Its been a while since my last chapter, so this ones sort of long to make up for it. I'm also busy with some extracurricular activities, but I swear to Notch this story will be finished. I'm also... Feeling sort of sorry for myself because of the low view/review count. I'm pathetic for saying that, but hey, You're reading this, aren't you?

Well I guess I owe you some thanks for reading this far so... Thanks. I feel better now.

But you didn't come here to hear me ramble on, right? Might as well start:

[-I-] Chapter Four [-I-]

_ Blake was gently drifting through… Space? Where was he? What was he? Where was he? Blake couldn't comprehend his location; it was totally empty and devoid of any substance at all. His eyes couldn't detect any sort of color in this odd void, it was as if someone had sucked all the life out of this dismal place. Blake had never felt so alone, or so powerless. Suddenly, he-_

Blake awoke from his dream, and rose suddenly. Unfortunately, he knocked heads with Sir Bicer. Blake fell back unto the bed and groaned, Sir Bicer looking at him curiously.

"You're awake." Bicer said matter-of-factly.

"Thanks for stating the obvious _and_ hitting my head with your helmet."

Bicer shrugged innocently. "It didn't hurt you though, right?"

"Of course it hurt me! You probably couldn't feel it because YOU'RE WEARING THE HELMET!"

A wooden door creaked open, and a worried-looking servant peeked inside. "Excuse me," he said softly, "Are you ready to set off?"

"I guess we are!" Bicer said joyfully.

Blake carefully got up out of bed. Despite the recently-inflicted head wound, Blake felt miraculously healed.

Bicer must have noticed Blakes confused expression and held up an empty glass bottle. "We gave you a healing potion while you were asleep."

Blake felt a wave of fear.

"How long was I unconscious?"

Bicer shrugged. "About a day. You weren't hurt that badly, but for some reason you wouldn't wake up. A couple knights got impatient and decided to "meet" the Tactomancer on their own. I told them to wait but… Ah well, you're ready now so we can get a move on!"

"A day? How long does King Fyron have left 'till the curse takes him?" Blake asked worriedly.

Bicer shrugged for the third time. "Three or four days, or that's what we're guessing at anyways. The court physician barely understands what's happening to Fyrons body, which is understandable, since this is a magic-based illness and we have nobody with a speck of magic understanding anywhere nearby."

"Then there's no time to waste" Blake said suddenly, and sped out of the room with Bicer in close pursuit.

"We have the supplies necessary for the journey in the guard barracks!" Bicer shouted with glee.

Blake suddenly realized he had no idea where he was running, these stone hallways all looked the same and he was probably on the second floor of the castle.

"Which way is that?" Blake asked sheepishly.

Bicer didn't reply but simply ran in the opposite direction, with Blake struggling to keep up. How could a man in full armor run so quickly?

Bicer led Blake to an unlocked iron door, which the knight casually swung open. The barracks were currently deserted, with random pieces of gear and weaponry strewn everywhere. Bicer looked on in disappointment.

"A true warrior always keeps his tools in top notch shape, this is embarrassing to a knight like myself."

Bicer grabbed two leather backpacks, and handed one to Blake. Bicer also took a sword from the weapons rack, and looked at it reverently. Blake slung the backpack over his shoulders and noticed the sword was identical to the one he took from Bicer to fight the undead attackers.

Bicer sheathed the sword and jogged out of the room, with Blake following suit.

"Whats in these packs anyways?" Blake asked as the pair trotted down a set of stone stairs to the first floor.

"Mostly food and medicine, a potion or two, some backup weaponry, a Baladon orb, and a map!" Bicer replied without breaking stride.

The two reached the throne room and kept on going.

"See ya soon King Fyron, we'll get you a cure or something!" Bicer shouted as he and Blake ran out the huge double doors, leaving a very confused King and startled princes left to wonder if that had really just happened.

Blake and Bicer went through an open portcullis and exited the stronghold walls. They reached a massive wall of trees and vegetation.

"What's a Baladon orb anyhow?" Blake asked breathlessly as the two stopped for a brief respite.

"It's sort of like a- Huh. You know those guys?" Bicer asked.

Blake then noticed two people running towards them.

"It's me!" A voice shouted.

"And me as well!" A second voice shouted.

Blake instantly remembered who the people were.

"Don't worry Bicer, their friends."

Ross and Riggs reached Blake and Bicer, and Bicer held out a hand in greeting.

Riggs took the hand eagerly and shook it, Bicer gave an echoing laugh.

"My my, you're a strong one!" Bicer said.

"Thank you" Ross said, attempting to shove Riggs aside so that he could shake Bicers hand. The attempt was ineffective, and the chatty warrior slipped and fell.

Bicer helped Ross back up to his feet.

"It's good to meet you too, archer. My name is Bicer."

"It's Ross, nice to meet you too." Ross said genuinely.

"I'm Riggs." The veteran miner said.

"Great to make your acquaintance as well." Bicer said.

"Great" Blake interjected, "We all know each other, so why are you two here?"

Ross laughed. "We're here to help you get a cure for King Fyron. We heard the whole thing in a bar, the story of a stranger defeating two undead and saving the kings life spread like wildfire throughout the city."

"That's great news!" Blake said happily, "I was going to ask you two for help anyways, but now that you're here we have an even better shot of getting to the Tactomancer and getting some sort of cure."

"Ah yes, about that whole "cure" business, how do we know that Tactomancer even knows how to cure this curse?" Ross said doubtfully. "We don't even know what the curse is called, plus we're going to invade his domain after three other knights went to see him just yesterday, and let us not forget the most important problem: He probably won't decide to help us in the first place, and will simply kill us and turn us into zombies or something."

"Right… He can raise the dead." Blake said mournfully.

"Actually, nobody has ever seen him raise a corpse or perform black magic." Bicer said methodically, "For all we know, the Tactomancer may have grown weak in the past few years, for despite the terror that fills the Kingdom of Tearstone, the undead attacks have waned recently. Those two red monsters were the first serious attack since four weeks ago."

"But Fyron was talking about a zombie horde at the meeting." Blake countered.

"He was talking about a _possible_ zombie attack. We haven't seen significant undead movement in a while."

"If they were all speaking hypothetically, and if there hasn't been an attack in _four weeks_, why is everyone so terrified? Why do the people hide? What aren't you three telling me?"

Sir Bicer shifted nervously, Riggs avoided eye contact, and Ross laughed.

"It's the Black Knife." Ross said cheerfully. "They've had everyone scared out of their skins recently.

"Black Knife?" Blake asked. "Why is everyone scared of a knife?"

"It's not a knife, it's an organization that named themselves after an accursed weapon. The Black Knife is essentially the kings secret police. They make sure everyone's working on the defenses twenty four/seven."

Bicer gave a thoughtful sigh.

"Tired already?" Ross asked in a cheeky voice.

"No, not tired. Just confused. I have heard of the Black Knife before, but never have I laid eyes upon one of their members. I used to be in the inner ring of knights before my tragedy, and never was this "secret police" brought up. Plus, King Fyron is an honorable man. He would never terrorize his own people."

"You never heard it brought up because it's a secret. Duh." Ross said, making a ridiculous face.

Everyone ignored Ross.

"You had a tragedy?" Blake asked. "I heard a knight say "go get your honor back." Did you lose your knighthood or something?"

Bicer shook his head. "I'd rather not relate what happened at this time. I'm still stuck on the issue of the Black Knife though."

"Forget about it for now." Riggs said in his gravelly voice. "If we don't get a move on to the Tactomancers domain we won't make it there before sunfall."

"Of course." Bicer said, new life in his voice. "Let's start our trek!"

The four companions began their descent into the forest, their boots crushing the thick undergrowth. It was obvious that somebody or _something _had walked through here before: The great spindly branches that grew from the trunks of giant trees were covered in small tears of clothes, and a great decaying smell seemed to fill the entire forest.

"So what supplies do you guys have?" Ross asked suddenly, as if trying to keep a constant conversation flowing.

Bicer yawned and recounted the items aloud. "Some small arms weaponry. Arrows. Some potions, a map, medicine and food. Plus a Baladon orb!"

"A Baladon orb?" Ross asked incredulously. "Surely King Fyron is a rich man."

"Okay, seriously, what does a Baladon orb even do?" Blake asked exasperatedly.

"Well its usually used for…" Riggs began.

"Hold up guys." Ross whispered in an attention-commanding voice. "Don't turn around, but we're being followed."

Blake was glad Ross had given him a preliminary warning, had the archer not said what he did Blake probably would of swung around like an idiot.

"Do you know who it is?" Bicer asked in a casual voice, attempting to make the stalker believe they were holding a normal conversation.

Ross gave an incredibly fake yawn and stretched his arms widely. Blake noticed his right eye flicker towards the denser bushes.

Ross scratched his stomach and coughed. Halfway through the cough, Blake was sure he heard Ross whisper "Right."

Blake was surprised at the skillfulness of his companions, to any normal person it looked as though the four men were totally unaware of the stalker, while in reality they already knew the stalkers location.

Bicer had an additional advantage over the other three: Since his face was obscured by his helmet, he could easily sneak glances at the stalker.

Ross opened his mouth like he was about to speak, when suddenly a man cloaked entirely in black walked out of a bush. The man had moved so quickly and silently Blake would have thought he had just appeared out of thin air, if it weren't for Ross's warning.

Bicer drew his sword, the blade making an awe-inspiring SHHHHHRRRIIIIIIIINNG!

Ross unslung his bow and drew an arrow to full draw in roughly four seconds.

Riggs drew a massive iron knife from a hidden sheath. The knife had a blade that probably measured to about three feet. The blade was straight for two of the three feet, but the rest of the blade curved backwards sharply.

Blake noticed that he was essentially unarmed compared to his friends, but he drew his throwing knife anyways.

The man put up his hands defensively. "I have no quarrel with you." He said with a surprisingly calm voice. The other surprising thing about his voice was how warped it was, it was as if the man was calling from the bottom of a well.

The voice wasn't the only odd thing about the man. The stalker was wearing a skintight silk shirt and pants, along with some very comfortable black leather boots. The man also wore an odd helmet crafted from obsidian. The helmet was shaped like a horizontal football with the edges nearly cut off.

When Blake peered into the helmet, the thousands of black hexagons gave a distorted image of his own face. Blake thought that if he looked hard enough, he could almost make out a light blue outline of the man's face. For a moment he saw a nearly perfect, (albeit very blue and black), version of the man's face.

He had surprisingly weak features.

Ross's voice brought him back to the present.

"ind that hard to believe from the guy who was stalking us for the past five minutes. Maybe you'd mind telling us your name, what you're following us for, and where you bought those comfortable looking boots."

The man considered this for a moment.

"Shade. Help you on your quest. Made them myself."

Ross blinked. "I didn't expect you to answer. Sweet."

"So your name is Shade?" Bicer asked. "And you want to help us on our quest to save King Fyrons life?"

Shade laughed. The noise was distorted and probably broke Blakes eardrums. "That is what I just said, correct?"

"Why did you wait until we were in the forest to join us? Why'd you stalk us instead of coming out at the beginning? Why haven't I ever seen you before? And most importantly of all, where can I get a helmet like that?"

"I was late. I was making a point that you need me. I'm good at sneaking. Obsidian Arts and Crafts."

Ross frowned. "Of course you bought the helmet at a store, but the boots are custom made."

Shade shrugged.

Riggs brought everyone back to the topic at hand. "So how do we know we can trust you?"

Shade laughed again. Blakes eardrums popped again.

"Because I'm the sneakiest man you'll ever meet, you'll definitely need me on this quest. Plus, I hate the Black Knife, and once this whole Tactomancer thing is over I can give you all the dirt on them you'd ever want to know."

Riggs nodded sagely. "We'll need every person we can on this quest, and stealth may serve us well if we are to survive."

Ross chuckled. "You wouldn't know stealth if it dropped a very damaged anvil on your head."

Riggs swung his gaze to Ross. "Stealth may not drop an anvil on my head, but you and I both know I could drop one on yours."

Ross involuntarily backed up a pace and shut up.

"I like you guys already." Shade said jokingly, but as he spoke Blake couldn't shake the suspicion that the black-clad man was looking right at him. Creepy.

"Let's keep moving." Bicer said, and the now-larger-party continued traveling through the forest.

Ross finally rediscovered his voice and spoke to Shade.

"So I guess you should know our names. I'm Ross, the charismatic archer with mad skills. That's Riggs, a super strong miner guy who doesn't mine anymore. It's complicated. That's Bicer, he's a knight who wishes to regain his honor. And that's Blake. He's quiet and spaces out a lot, but he can beat the crap out of undead monsters. Plus, if this was a story, he'd probably be the main character."

Shade laughed again. "What brought that last comment on?"

Ross shrugged. "Archers intuition."

Bicer punched Ross in the arm.

**-O-O-O-O-O-O-**


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Sorry for the short chapter, just couldn' find a way to sneak this into chapter four or the original chapter five. Oh well.

[-I-] Chapter Five [-I-]

Far above the forest, at the top of an ancient tower, stood a man in black robes. His long black hair was hidden by his heavy hood. The man's eyes were bright blue and shone like beacons. To any sane adventurer, this cloaked figure was a dangerous magic user, and a magic user in this part of the woods could only be one man: The Tactomancer.

The Tactomancer uttered some ancient words, and conjured up a two dimensional image of the people who had invaded his forest.

It was an odd group of heroes. A very odd group. From what the Tactomancer could see, this new group was made up out of five people: A knight, who was probably the group's leader, led the party. The knight was followed by a miner who never talked, an archer who couldn't stop talking, a man wearing black clothes and stylish boots, and… Who was that fifth man? He appeared to be ageless; the Tactomancer couldn't tell it he was a teenager or an adult.

The Tactomancer adjusted his hood and frowned. The fifth member had an ancient aura of magika surrounding him. The aura was seeping through the forest, and climbed up the tower. The Tactomancer inhaled the aura, and began to choke. What was this oppressive force? The strength of the aura was crushing him! The Tactomancer conjured up a shield to protect him from the ancient power, and backed up while coughing violently.

The Tactomancer retreated into his cobblestone tower and flipped a lever. This was going to be fun.

**-O-O-O-O-O-O-**


End file.
